What the Water Gave Me
by LollyAspen
Summary: It's when he's standing in the rain that he remembers her most.  Onesided Zuko/Katara.


**So this is what happpens when I'm given too much time to think about Avatar. For a long time, I tried to be a Zutara fan, I really tried. I read a few fanfics about the pairing, and it was... Weird. I spent some time thinking about it (yes, I have no life) and finally I realized that I really like the one-sided idea of Zutara, mostly from Zuko. And being Zuko, I figured that he would never admit to it or try to think about it. Thus, this was born. I got the title from the song _What the Water Gave Me_ by the awesome-tastic Florence and the Machine. One of my dear friends said the song made her think of Katara, and here we are. Reviews are love and as always, enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing.

He received the news when it was raining. He stood out on his balcony, under the shelter of a canopy. The messenger handed him the note and bowed. From first glance, he recognized the Avatar's handwriting, and slowly, he began to read.

_Dear Zuko_,

_She's gone. We want to have a memorial service for her in the Southern Tribe. She would have liked that. I hope you come. She would have wanted all of us there._

_-Aang_

He looked up from the scroll to the rain. It always made him think of her.

"Sir?" The messenger stepped forward.

He thrust the scroll into his robes. "I will need a ship ready by this evening." The messenger nodded and bowed once more before exiting the balcony.

He stepped out into the rain. The steady drops of water grazed across his skin, and he felt its cool touch. Water. Healing. Life. His hair moistened and the rain fell onto his cheeks and nose. The water was calming and cool. Almost like her.

He remembered the day when they met. The circumstances weren't friendly. Hardly any of their days began on friendly terms. Her trust in him had faltered since Ba Sing Se, and he didn't blame her. Even he did not trust himself.

He remembered her spirit, how she would fight to keep Aang safe. How she cared about other people who needed her. How she would mother the rest of the group. The thought of her reprimanding them all for poor posture and bad hygiene habits brought a small smile to his lips.

She was beautiful, and he never allowed himself to dwell on it. He couldn't because it went against everything. He didn't even like her that way. She was the Avatar's girl, and he always knew she would be. But sometimes, like when she laughed or entered a battle with her water pouch and a determined look on her face, he wondered what it would be like to be closer to her.

It was easier when he was still the banished prince because all that mattered was his honor. There was no time to think about anything else. But things changed, and he became a refugee in the Earth Kingdom. He never saw himself in that position, not in a million years.

Then he ran into the Avatar and his friends again. His deceitful little sister worked her brilliance, and he found himself imprisoned in the catacombs beneath the city. Imprisoned with her. She ranted and released every emotion she had built up against him, and he let her. Everything she said was true. He wanted to remain silent and just let her release the steam, but then she mentioned her mother. The Fire Nation took her mother away from her.

"I'm sorry. That's something we have in common," he had said.

For once, they'd had a heart to heart and she explained how she saw him. The face of the enemy. She offered to heal him. She touched his scar, the scar he hated and loathed because it marked him as nothing but a banished prince. And he turned around and betrayed her.

He remembered the day he was accepted into their group. How he felt he was doing something right. She stood at his doorway and explained that she did not believe in his "transformation." The threat that followed left him feeling hollow. She hated him, and he couldn't give her a reason not to do so.

Over time, he grew to admire her. Not love, but admire. She was strong, she was patient, she was responsible. She was a formidable foe, and he felt honored to accompany her in search for the Southern Raiders. But he also saw her dark side, like when she used blood-bending or let her urge for vengeance drive her. In a way, it frightened him.

He remembered the way she felt in his arms, after they had returned. He hadn't realized how much her forgiveness meant to him. He never held her like that again, not really. Finally, they could consider themselves allies and almost friends.

Then they faced Azula together. He reached to touch his chest, where his other scar resided. She had saved his life and healed him from Azula's lightening. And with the end of the war, they had been able to set aside all differences and truly be friends. There wasn't anything else.

He told himself he never wanted more, that he was grateful for his life and his choices, and especially for Mai.

But as he stood there, the rain soaking through his skin, he thought back to a dream he once had of himself with her. They were bending, side-by-side. The water she guided was clear and cool, and she danced as it moved with her. His fire was warm, but without the rage he usually used to fuel it. Their elements encircled them as they drew close to one another. They didn't smile, they didn't speak, but there was a connection between them that was unexplainable.

Water. Fire. Opposites.

The rain poured harder and trickled down his face. He didn't move a muscle though. He wanted the sound of the water to fill him to the brim. Nothing was to disturb him. For a long time, the only sound he heard was that of the overflow.


End file.
